


I Rage To Grow To Learn For You

by miaoubabe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Coming of Age, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, I love daishou pls don't yell at me lol, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neighbors, Personal Canon, Personal Growth, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 22:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16731915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoubabe/pseuds/miaoubabe
Summary: Tetsurou believes in love a little too much, but he knows it won’t let him down when he depends on two constant people in his life.





	I Rage To Grow To Learn For You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys welcome to my channel!!!  
> Lol just a little idea I had in the back of my head; hope y'all enjoy :)

He’s seven years old when the world turns upside down. Up in the sheltered apartment where walls may shatter, dust flies, voices scream to the end of the earth, _this isn’t what I wanted! We’re supposed to be making good decisions for him!_

He feels his head exploding, cooped up in his too small of a room with a volleyball in his hands and back against the wall right underneath the window. It’s probably the best thing in the room, he believes, because it overlooks the starry-eyed city and its cheap glamor. On Saturday nights, much like this, the men stumble between the alleys of their apartment complexes and vendors sell their food just a little too pricey because the drunks are lazy and the women don’t play fair.

Tetsurou Kuroo understands nothing yet everything about that world outside; but if the moon collapsed and his parents stopped fighting, he’d think the world might just be still and perfect and lonely.

“Tetsurou!! Get out here!"

He knows what’s coming next. He doesn’t mind that outcome neither.

His little body protests, stomach grumbles and dewey eyelashes are stuck together, crinkles in his joints and his hair its defined bedhead style. He slips on the red hoodie, you know, the one with the pawprints on the back, and brings a pair of old ratty black shoes he’s slipped in 6 times- yes, he likes to count.

By the time he reaches the door to his bedroom his dad is already standing there with some bag bundle and an expression that’s looking past him miles afar. Perhaps he’s looking towards the direction of America! Where the grass is supposed to be greener and _do parents fight over there too?_

“Uh, you’re going to stay the night at Kenma’s, is that okay? Mommy and I need to finish..” he trails off, but Tetsurou isn’t blind as he glances at his mom wavering in the corner, refuses to look at either of them, and his dad is teetering on his toes.

“Okay.. I have a new game to show Kenma anyways.” Tetsurou shrugs.

He passes one more glance to his mother but she’s not budging. There’s another window in the living quarters, three long windows to be exact, that reach the floor to the ceiling and they’re quite the display for Tokyo nights and wishing and dreaming- and what could she be dreaming of staring at that artificial life they were surrounded by.

Instead, Tetsurou takes the bag from his father who hasn’t moved. He slips past him and his mother, to the doorway right near the kitchen. Throwing the shoes down, he pokes his tongue out fiddling with the laces. There’s a sob behind him, and he doesn’t know what the word desperate means but he heard his dad tell Kenma’s mom _We’re desperate for a change_ , so, can a cry sound desperate? Sure, let’s go with that.

“Goodnight dad… goodnight mom..” He doesn’t look back, opens the door, and leaves to the sound of choked on sobs and wheezing.

***

“Chicken bone!”

“Ugly head!”

“Infected snake bite!”

“You know what!” Daishou hisses.

“W-What!” Kuroo grimaces.

“You’re a shitty cat!”

Kuroo gasps, Kenma’s eyes widen, Daishou smirks- because only he would be proud of using a curse word like that. Defiled! Nasty slang!

“Kenma cover your ears!” Kuroo yells and spins around, tightly embracing his best friend's little figure despite being the same height. He thinks his hair gives him an advantage, now that’s just silly.

“How dare you!” Kuroo is still raging, but Daishou thinks he’s won this battle so he saunters away with the Mikasa volleyball in his hands and a self-indulgent wave goodbye.

“I hate that guy.” Kuroo huffs. Kenma only nods, still focused on the crushing hug Kuroo’s smothering him with.

Daishou’s a lunatic, did you see the way he spat his spit and threw dust at things he disliked? _Boys,_ _they’re a hell of a bit trouble._

“Are you okay?” Kuroo asks, pulls away a few inches to check at Kenma’s dusty little cheeks.

“I should be asking you that,” Kenma mutters, watches Kuroo’s trembling fingers detach from his hold and play hide and seek in the holes of his sweater. The red pawprint one, of course.

“Y-yeah,” He turns away, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

It’s obvious, but whatever. Kenma puffs up his cheeks and lets the air chill around them before he takes a look at the ruffled dirt and flattened grass. Playgrounds are dangerous, he learns that day.

Neither of them have the chance to make many friends out there. They're in the center of downtown, the adult playground- hell of a world to come by, and their only other moody neighbor which so happens to be that snake kid Daishou. They don’t talk much, just stick their tongues out at each other through the windows. Kuroo’s got a bad habit of provoking him, and Daishou only grins and sticks his middle finger up.

So maybe the kid is a little too precocious, even for his age, because his vernacular is the same size as Kuroo’s but instead of knowing the words like _noble_ and _authoritative_ , he’s got _repulsive_ and _dumbass_ from who knows where (it’s actually not a secret at all his brother taught him everything before his parents did).

“Come on Kenma, let’s go home!” Kuroo starts to perk up.

Kenma isn’t so quick to react, however. He’s still gripped with the image of Daishou and the volleyball that doesn’t belong to him but he has it and won’t give it back and that was Kuroo’s ball _dammit-_ why can’t that stupid snake understand?

“Kenma..” Kuroo whispers, and something warm lingers in his hand. Oh, it’s another hand. Kenma and Kuroo’s hands, intertwined.

“I’ll get it back from him later, I promise.” Kuroo’s lips quiver, small and steady, and his hand still trembles but Kenma chooses to believe him. Have his instincts ever failed him before?

***

Kuroo gets the ball back.

They’re sixteen and seventeen, dressed in loose tanks and black shades, laughing and gawking at each other in the sand during their run of the mill beach trip underneath the canopy of elephant leaves that leave sun spots trickling in over their tanned skin.

“Snake shit!”

“Fat ass cat!”

“Hey you guys, stop sucking each other’s dicks already! Leave the serpent alone and come help load up the shit Kuroo!” Oikawa can’t suppress his ever glowing smile, however, as he rolls his eyes and kicks sand at the two.

“Then tell him to give me the ball!” Kuroo narrows his eyes.

“No way fucker, this is mine.” Daishou pokes his tongue out.

“What are you talking about! You stole that ball from me when I was like, six dude! It’s mine!”

Kuroo’s failing to hold back the layered steam. Everyone’s taking notice of his building resentment, ever so obvious in the way Kenma lurches forward; cloaked in the two sizes too big sweater, he won’t raise his voice, won’t even look the boys in the eye, but it’s the way he mutters, “Tetsurou, don’t start this now.”

It’s a trance it feels hearing his name spoken in that lithe tone only he can pick up on when Kenma says it. Always had that damming effect, like popping bubblegum, sucking on a cherry, wet all over his mouth. He blinks, looks up at the boy he loves just a little too much, and his favorite lazy smirk smothers its way over his mouth.

“Suguru,” Kenma then starts, “give him the ball asshole.. You know you stole it.”

Jaws drop. Every single one down the line. In the back cicadas hum. Waves crash. Laughter. Who’s laughing?

“Iwa-chan! Stop laughing oh my god! Our precious kitty setter just cursed now is not the time for jokes!” Oikawa lightly slaps his bicep but his fingers linger over his tanned speckled skin.

“That’s the fucking funniest thing I might’ve ever just witnessed.” Now Iwaizumi can’t stop, and he’s followed by the flurry of Bokuto and a snort from Akaashi.

But they’re not laughing at Kenma. Daishou’s grin wears down to a thin lip bite. Kuroo’s smirking at him and Kenma’s not one for death glares but he’s staring right through the boy.

Daishou growls. Throws the ball at Kuroo’s chest and stomps away through the sand to his own group just a few meters away that have also witnessed his defeat so need he say more to their scrunched up faces and own disheveled spouts of laughter.

“I can’t believe Ken-man just tore down that snake! We have a true savage among our ranks boys.” Bokuto beams as he wraps his arm around Kenma’s shoulders and continues to hoot.

Kuroo’s eyes linger on that arm, the snuggle hold, Kenma’s hair showering half his face but wait- he's holding back a smile. That lip quiver- not the one he fights where his eyebrows curl in and his cheeks blow up; not the one where he scrunches his nose and turns his face into the pillow to get away as fast as he could, _kuroo please, ahaha- you're suffocating me!_

“Kuro..” Kenma huffs.

Well, at least he gets to see all those smiles whenever he wants.

“Let’s go home.” Kenma tugs at his wrist.

How breezy the air has turned, their hair a mess, eyes bright, and their laughter tumbles with the waves. He’s happiest here, he figures. He wants this forever moment.

***

He also wants this soft set ultra-serene glow of Kenma Kozume in his home, in his bed, in his arms. But life is funny, Tetsurou muses, and struggles digesting this when he leaves the empty bedroom with the big window and the kitty cat clock ticking down on the wall.

“You got everything? Your train leaves in two hours.”

Tetsurou’s dad is a fairly modest man with a lean stature and stubby facial hair he waits to shave at night rather than morning. He’s intellectually dependent, something Tetsurou appreciates, because it took years to train and feel properly physically healthy, but his drive for knowledge could never be satisfied, all thanks to one man. College wasn’t even a difficult decision, he’d more than happily accepted the results, and his dad patted his shoulder with a squiggly smile and dewy drops in the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s everything. I’m not even that far from campus I can just drive down on the weekend to grab anything dad.” Tetsurou snickers.

It’s not like he’s forgetful, he’ll come back to visit Kenma too. He’s just excited, a little overwhelmed, but somewhere even deeper is a fear he won’t even acknowledge. The university isn’t a problem, he can make some college associates, practice with the team, focus on his chemistry degree, maybe even get a job or do an internship. He’s run down the ideas some fifty times already and he’s not about to back out last minute because he can’t keep his emotions in check.

“Dad,” Tetsurou hums, where his father stares past him again, somewhere deeper in space than any man has ever voyaged. Quiet patience runs within the family, the same way he got his mother’s smile and grin, and how he squints his eyes too much when he’s serious or his clumsiness shows when he’s rushing out of excitement just like his father.

“Dad,” Tetsurou tries again, puts a hand on his shoulder and inhales, “everything will be okay.” Exhales.

Then Tetsurou falters as his dad brings him into an embrace, where warmth flutters, chests beat from one man to another, fingers tremble, eyes shut, eye wrinkles crumple just a little more, and memories of laughter, and tears, and stomping, and hollering, and running, and surprise play in their heads.

“I know, I just hope I did okay.” The man replies.

Of course he did. He’s done more than enough.

“Just make sure you go tell Kenma how you feel now. Don’t think he’d like to be kept waiting.”

That makes Tetsurou’s heart stop. His eyes are widened saucer plates.

“What-”

“You don’t need to ask Tetsu. Just do what makes you happy.”

Of course he’d say that. It’s why Tetsurou’s mom left them, it’s why his dad started working a job that paid less but made him quiver with excitement, it’s exactly what got Tetsurou involved in volleyball. Passion, one of a kind, the sweetest taste, it’s what made the Kuroo family the way it was. He’s not sure if he can make that kind of step- not when he’s already got everything packed and wore out his smile the past weekend. His hair is knotted, the under eyes have grown a tint darker, people have told him the hair on the nape of his neck has grown a little longer than usual, and his hugs aren’t as strong as they should be. He still means every smile, every embrace, every affectionate display- but is he truly happy with the life he’s leaving behind?

The older Kuroo has done it again.

“Thank you dad, I won’t fail you.” Tetsurou grins.

He grins all the way out the door with his three suitcases, drawstring whipped over his shoulder, and the Mikasa volleyball underneath the other arm.

He grins all the way to Kenma’s apartment just a few doors down. When Kenma slams the door open he’s the first to hook his arms around Tetsurou. A delicate surprise, really. The belongings and the volleyball are forgotten. Longer arms wrap around the lithe form of his kitten. He snuggles his face into Kenma’s hair and forgets the little audience that is Kenma’s mom and Tetsurou’s dad. _This isn’t even a big deal, idiot_ , and yet they’re clinging onto each other with exhaust empowering them.

Suddenly there’s a wave of regret flooding over Tetsurou- where his arms go limp but his hands tighten. He bites his lip, another roll of something tremendous travels through his body, tightening his muscles, tightening his eyelids till all he can see are pops of white and blue and purple stars, and his mouth contorts as he sobs into Kenma’s shoulder. They sound like thunder.

“Kuro!” Kenma pulls away but Tetsurou clings to him harder.

Their parents are in shock but they idle by the walls, waiting for the storm to pass.

“Kuro please..” He’s suddenly embarrassed, but when Tetsurou lifts his face Kenma wishes he hadn’t tried pulling off in the first place.

He’s usually the clean-shaven one, with the sharp eyes, kitty-cat grin, and slick features. He’s the one that can keep the team together. He’s got natural charisma despite being well reserved. He’s Kuroo motherfucking Tetsurou, and Kenma is damned and ashamed of himself for letting Tetsurou look this… broken. Dispirited, dismayed, perturbed, absolutely fragmented. All for-

“I’m sorry Kenma.” He sniffles, “I feel like I’ve been wasting our time, and now I’m going to uni and I’d never forget you, you know that right? Never, and I don’t care if I have to wait another year just for you to come to uni with me but I swear Kenma, I swear, I really do want to start over.” He sniffles again.

“Start over?” Kenma washes his eyes over him up and down.   
    Tetsurou nods, “I want to make things right. What I should have said to you when I first started feeling like this. I want you to go out with me.”

Go out, as in date?

“Yes Kenma, what else?”

He didn’t even realize he had said that aloud. Tetsurou is patient, however, watching for the first signs of discomfort, ready to make amends, to slither back into his own skin far far away.

“Why are you looking at me like that.. You know I don’t like all this attention..” Kenma says, but Tetsurou doesn’t stir. He finally figures this is where his father must drift off to, on a riverbank with the sound of chimes and the buzz of hummingbirds. Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz. Mumbles, grumbles, _I can’t believe this is happening,_ buzz, buzz.

Who broke the moment with their first kiss, they’ll never know. There were no harps playing, fireworks popping off in the background, neon lights strung around their necks as their hearts beat out their chests.

Their chests did beat though. They rung louder than anything else. Somewhere, time blurred into the faucet running, cars bolting through the street, and the faint bump of music- some American dream pop artist whispering _because I’m pretty when I cry, I’m pretty when I cry._ Who stopped and started their first kiss, they would always say it was the other.

“I’m sorry.” Tetsurou sighs.

“Stop apologizing.” Kenma hums.

“I should’ve said something sooner.”

“It’s fine. We’re both lame anyways.”

Lame and in love.

“Do you love me Kuro?”

He thought the look in his eyes should have said it all.

“Of course.”

Kenma hums again.

They stand in the middle of the hall, arms and hands and eyes and hearts intertwined.

“Kenma,” Tetsurou whispers.

“I love you too, idiot.” Kenma doesn’t miss a beat.

At some point their parents gave them their space- neither of their kids noticed. Tetsurou rolls the suitcases along the wall and steps inside, hand-in-hand with _the_ Kenma Kozume, their parents didn’t mind it much at all. Mama Kozume only asks what time his train takes off, wishes him the best, and kisses his forehead goodbye.

Along with his father he goes, very gently stroking Kenma’s cheek goodbye with promises for the future. They take to the streets, son and father, didn’t believe many words had to be said. There they found themselves an hour early for the train line.

“Are you happy now?” Papa Kuroo asks, smug too proud and too cocky.

Tetsurou sniffles, “Maybe.” He fights back a smile.

“You’re young Tetsu. Be happy as much as you can. I don’t expect you to make the same mistakes I did. You’ve definitely grown up to be better than me, I’m just glad you’re not holding yourself back.”

“I’m gonna be happy for the both of us.” Tetsurou bumps shoulders with him. “I love you too dad. Don’t forget that.”

Tetsurou believes in love a little too much, but he knows it won’t let him down when he depends on two constant people in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Was that Daishou listenting to Lana Del Rey in the background 👀


End file.
